Page 135 of Finance Bros
“You have,” he reminds me.
“Twice,” I remindhim.
He wipes some sweat from my brow and runs his hand over my hair. “I got the impression that position from earlier wasn’t exactly good for you.”
“It wasn’tbad,” I argue.
“Harder then.”
It was actually harder. Taking his huge cock while I was leaning over the sink in the unisex was a new kind of uncomfortable.
“You can always tell me to stop or change it up,” he says.
“I didn’t want you to stop. I came, didn’t I?”
“Yeah. You did.”
Thinking of it now—watching Ryan watch me in the mirror, his hand over my mouth to muffle my noises while I was red-faced and in perfect agony put me over the edge. It was only my second time coming completely untouched—nothing but air on my dick—and the first time had been a second orgasm. This one was ridiculous. Annihilating. I’d come everywhere, and Ryan had to clean it up because I was a useless wreck afterward.
“I ordered a butt plug,” I say.
He laughs again. “What the fuck?”
“I want you to be able to fuck me anywhere, anytime without worrying about it.”
“And you think that’ll help?”
“I do,” I say.
“I don’t need to fuck constantly. That’s you.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, aware I’m still apologizing. “I know. But it’d be like our secret. Something only you and I know. And I like knowing you’re thinking about me.”
“Mal…there hasn’t been a single day since I met you that I haven’t thought about you multiple times.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. “Is that a bad thing or a good thing.”
“It’s just a thing. About me. I think about you a lot.”
“I think about you constantly,” I confess. “I’m useless for how much I think about you.”
“Yeah?” he asks.
“You think I don’t?”
“I mean…I wonder.”
“I wish you wouldn’t,” I say. “The only reason I’m not texting you constantly is because I’m trying to show some restraint. There hasn’t been a single day I haven’t wanted to talk to you. And I’m not just talking about this summer.”
“I needed to hear that,” he whispers.
“It’s true. It’s worse now, though,” I admit. “I want you. I worry. I feel like such a mess.”
Ryan sighs and digs his forehead into my shoulder, his fingertips returning to circle my right nipple. “I’ve always liked your mess, so don’t worry about that.”
I try to smile. “Okay.”
“I know work’s sucked for you this week, but are you excited about the podcast?”
